


The Haunted Breakroom

by garrideb



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Ghosts, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrideb/pseuds/garrideb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first glance the only thing that sets this break room apart is the antique foosball table.  But there's a rumor that it's haunted...<br/>Written 11/2006</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Haunted Breakroom

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to the House_Wilson LJ comm [here](http://house-wilson.livejournal.com/859542.html#cutid1). I tweaked the beginning a little, as I found what I'd written originally to be problematic.

Carlos gave me my tour of Princeton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital, which put me in a good mood. As far as I could tell, the aging pediatrician was the friendliest doctor in the hospital. He smiled, he laughed, and if he told me the same less-than-fresh jokes more than once, I didn’t care. It was better than the cool reception I had gotten from some of the doctors.

The last part of the tour was the old section of the building. No attempts had been made to keep the architecture and décor consistent between old and new when a major part of the hospital was renovated, so it was like stepping through a portal to a different building. The flooring was well worn, the lights a bit warmer, and many of the walls were made of glass. It was also quieter.

“It’s mostly labs back here,” Carlos told me. “This is where you go when you want a patient-free minute.” As we walked through a long hallway Carlos poked his head into each lab and if there was anyone in the room he introduced me. Most of the labs were dark, though, so it was quick work. Finally he led me to a door at the end of the hall. “And here we have our haunted lounge.”

“Excuse me?” I wasn’t sure if I’d missed something.

“Haunted doctor’s lounge,” he repeated, opening the door. I tried to peer around him to see the room. From what I could see around Carlos, the lounge looked normal.

“Aren’t the morgues supposed to be the haunted ones?” I asked as Carlos stepped aside. I walked in and saw a standard break room – fridge, microwave, and a few comfy chairs. The only remarkable feature was the old, almost antique looking foosball table.

“Spooky, isn’t it?” My tour guide walked over to the fridge and took out a soda. “And why would the morgue be haunted? No one ever dies in there.” He grinned and tossed me a soda, too.

My eyes went wide as my mind made a leap. “Someone died in here?”

“No, nothing like that.”

Despite the fact that I had grown out of ghost stories when I was twelve, I was curious. “Okay, so what makes it haunted?”

Carlos glanced around in an exaggerated manner and motioned me closer. “The peanut butter.”

“The peanut butter?”

“Yes. The peanut butter always disappears. I’ve brought in dozens of jars during my time at this hospital, and without fail they’re empty the next day.” His eyes were sparkling but he sounded serious.

“And… that’s it?”

“Well, sometimes the refrigerator will be mysteriously cleaned and organized.”

“Couldn’t that just be a doctor?”

He gave me a pointed look. “A doctor cleaning the fridge? Clearly there’s supernatural activity involved.”

“Right.” I laughed as he led me out of the room. The last stop of the tour was the Dean’s office, where I signed yet another form that made my job official.

I didn’t think about the lounge in the old hospital wing until a month or two later, when I ran some samples down to lab 132c. I had been recruited to help out with the night shift, so it was late. The lights were dimmed in the glass-walled hallway. I was due for a break so as soon as I dropped off the samples I headed for the lounge. The only thing on my mind was the overstuffed red chair I remembered from before. My feet were killing me – I just needed to sit for a while.

The lounge was empty. The only sign that anyone had visited it since Carlos had brought me here was a large bowl of popcorn on the countertop next to the microwave.

I dropped onto the chair and closed my eyes. My mind had all but shut down at that point, and so I didn’t think anything of it when the lyrics to ‘Henry the Eighth’ drifted past me. I was drifting off, too.

I jerked awake when something landed on my cleavage. The jolt of adrenaline had me on my feet and brushing off my chest before I saw that it wasn’t a spider between my breasts. It was a kernel of popcorn. I picked it up and stared around the room, breathing hard.

The ball on the foosball table was slowly rolling across the green surface. Frozen, I swore I could hear voices coming from that part of the room.

 _Score! That’s gotta be worth seven points!_

 _Do you have to do that? She was just sleeping!_

I was bolting out of the lounge as fast as I could. Just before I slammed the door behind me, I caught a few more words.

 _This is our room, Jimmy. Why should we share?_


End file.
